


Remedial Pitching Lessons for the Yellowstone Magic

by EyePencils



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27780670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyePencils/pseuds/EyePencils
Summary: Curry said, no one gets to leave the Cabin this sunday until everyone knows how to pitch the ball.No one liked this. It's Week Four of Remedial Pitching Lessons. It was time to take drastic measures.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Remedial Pitching Lessons for the Yellowstone Magic

"No, pigeon perch. No one is leaving this room until we finish going over the %&!#ing training regimens for all. Of. You."

A young man's agonizing groan punctuates that threat from under a floppy brimmed hat. His head is firmly planted in the fine wooden table, arms splayed out in front of him and gripping the other edge as he rubs his face into the varnish. He lifts his gaze, turning a faintly glowing crystal eye to the imp that was barking at him. His pained expression said it all, but he wasn't going to miss out on a chance to complain.

"Curryyyyy _ **yyyyyyyyy**_." His soft voice turns into a sharp whine. "We've gone over the exact same eons-old 'Coach Merlinmeyer Blaseball Training' video for the past month now. Every damn Sunday. I don't even think that's Coach Merlinmeyer. It's like his dad, or something." He gestures limply to the projector screen; frozen on a grainy film frame was what appeared to be the team manager, but much, MUCH younger - He didn't have a beard, for instance. It was a goatee. But it was different enough, in the boy's opinion, that the coach had plausible deniability.

He nudges the being next to him, his elbow sinking into the orange-tinged flesh of a cleverly disguised cephalopod. Two large ink-blot eyes blink, and turn to the boy.

"Inky, back me up. Practical experience trounces whatever the Hells this is, right?"

Inky offers an all-too-wide smile back.

 _"Goodness, no. I find these videos to be very enlightening."_ He gurgles back. His voice warbles with each vowel. _"For instance, I never knew that Coach Merlinmeyer was full of-"_ He pauses to place a hand over where a heart would be. _"-Dashfire, when he was only a- a hobbledahoy."_ He unleashes a quivering giggle. _"You could stand to learn something from this, Yeong-ho, as a hobbledahoy yourself. You and young Merlinmeyer have SO much in common."_

Yeong-ho gives a flat stare, mixed between confusion and concern.

"Give up, Bird-brain." Chides the horned, floating imp known as Curry. "The only one exempt from these mandatory lessons is Rutledge, and he came anyway. He actually likes improving. Maybe if your performance shaped up, I wouldn't feel so bad about you skipping out. But YOU-" She points a flaming finger to Yeong-ho, "and THESE two chuckle%&!#s-" the finger swings towards an impossibly ancient man bedecked in plant life -- mostly moss -- that was barely paying attention, and what appeared to be a Mars Land Rover that was bumping against the door repeatedly. "- Are getting remedial pitching lessons until you figure out how to properly throw a %&!#ing ball! The goal for you three idiots is to STRIKE OUT THE BATTERS. Not toss out an under-hand to set them up for a homerun!" 

"They're not even paying attention." Yeong-ho mumbles.

"Oh, and you are?"

Inky raises a hand-like tentacle. _"I am! Today, I learned that Coach Merlinmeyer had a strong appreciation for cats' heads."_

There is an audible smack as Yeong-ho's hand meets his forehead. The ancient man turns with a creak of his entire body.

"Watch your language, Famous." He rasps.

"That's Rutledge, Logan." Curry replies dimly. Logan turns his bark-crusted gaze towards the Imp. His eyelids crack open and old, blackened eyes dart over to Inky. He lets out a low grunt.

"Oh."

His eyes close once more, though now his lips seemed to move feverishly, as if speaking to himself. Par for the course, since the other pitchers seem to mostly ignore it.

"I WOULD LIKE TO LEAVE, MISS. ALICIAKEYES."

The Rover buzzes, turning it's camera eye towards the Imp as she hovers over the table. She scowls.

"Well no the %&!# you won't, you overpriced Amazon drone!" She screeches. "That trophy for 'One Thousand Walks' on your shelf isn't an accomplishment, it’s a pity prize. You are literally the league's leader in Walks-- how the _% &!#_ did you do that in ten seasons, Cory?!"

Cory doesn't register the question.

"I AM SCHEDULED. TO SURVEY ROCKS THIS AFTERNOON."

Curry lands with a soft stomp on the table. Yeong-ho, who was beginning to doze off in his seat, sits up with a yelp.

"Have you been paying attention AT ALL to this video?! The video I EXPLICITLY told you to watch?!" Curry hisses.

The Rover replies without an ounce of shame.

"NO."

The dam bursts. Curry grips the sides of her head and releases an unholy scream in a rage. Paint peels from the cabin's walls. Glasses shatter. Inky's eyes bulge. Yeong-ho plugs his ears with a tired scowl. Logan doesn't even seem to notice.

Cory doesn't even seem to care.

"ALRIGHT, THAT'S IT. I'M STRIPPING THIS @$$HOLE FOR PARTS!" She bellows, stomping across the table towards the robot. Yeong-ho places a softly glowing hand out to stop her in her tracks, holding back the enraged imp. "LET ME GO, NEVERMORON, I'M GOING TO BUILD US A NEW PITCHER OUT OF THE PIECES! I'M TIRED OF HIS ATTITUDE!"

Her wings flap. Her claws scratch at Yeong-ho's wrists. He yelps in shock, rising from his seat for better leverage.

"Unholy Hells, Curry!" He yells back. "No one even wants to be here! Could you RELAX?!"

Inky stands too, a delightful grin on his face.

_"Oh, excitement! Give her a good anointing, Yeong-ho!"_

"WHO'S SIDE ARE YOU ON?!"

"BEEP."

Three of the five pitchers drop into a brawl, with Cory watching by the door. Yeong-ho tries to pull Curry's mouth off of one of Inky's arms, her needle-like teeth struggling to find purchase on his flesh. A free tentacle wraps around Yeong-ho's neck, inciting panic in the witch. All the while, Curry points a burning hand towards Cory.

"SHI'FTAGH-N--" She chants through a full mouth--

"K'KRERFUU'N--" Yeong-ho chants, as he attempts to pull Inky off his throat--

 _"WHAT A FIZZING GOOD TIME--!"_ Inky cheers, simply happy to be there--

"Under the table." Logan commands. His eyes open once more, now glowing with a silver light. It's a command that causes the Yellowstone fracas to stop dead in its tracks. It's then that they all hear an approaching, earth trembling rumble, and the three -- with Cory close behind -- drop to get under the table with the druid.

Without further warning, some indiscernible mass crashes through one wall of the cabin and blasts out the other, taking the projector, screen, and roof along with it. Shattered logs and wood splinters go flying, and the five huddle underneath the safety of the table. Yeong-ho and Curry hold their breaths. Inky clings to each of them. Cory lowers his camera eye. Logan waits.

And just as soon as it happened, the rain of debris comes to an end, and Yeong-ho pokes his head up to watch whatever had crashed through the cabin. Though the smell already gave it away, his glowing eye confirmed it: A gigantic peanut rolled down the hillside, bulldozing any tree in its path.

Curry flies out from under the table slowly. She shoots a glance over to Logan, then to where the projector once was. Her mouth hangs open, as if to say something, to chastise the group--

"... Alright! %&!# it! Meeting adjourned. On hold indefinitely. I guess."

Yeong-ho, in the middle of dusting off his floppy witch hat, pumps his fist. Curry is quick to follow up, though, and points a finger--

At Logan.

"But I swear on Merlinmeyer's future grave, bark-licker, if I find out you influenced something to ensure that happened, I'm going to carve a trash receptacle into your backside."

The imp glides out through the open hole in the wall, her hands going into her sweater's pockets.

"Later, @$$holes."

Yeong-ho watches Curry fly off until she disappears among the trees. Once she was gone, he pulls out a small leather bag and deposits it into Logan's now outstretched hand. The druid sports a crooked grin.

"Thanks, Logan. If this continued into next week I think I would have actually lost my mind." He says with a sigh. "Expired magic beans, like you asked." The witch dusts off his hands. "Don't tell Mister Wise, he's been asking how I disposed of them for five years now, since the Giants incident."

The sound of a camera lens retracting causes Yeong-ho to look down at their feet, locking eyes with the, until this moment, forgotten Rover. Cory’s treads rotate, painfully slowly, and he drives towards the now busted door. He never breaks 'eye'-contact with Yeong-ho. Inky waits there with an innocent smile, pulling the door off its hinges for the robot and him.

"DO NOT WORRY. WE WON'T TELL ANYONE."

And then, they were gone as well. For some reason, as Yeong-ho watched the other two leave…

He just couldn't bring himself to trust that statement.


End file.
